It wasn't just the summer rain slicing through the street lights and pelting on the grey asphalt that made me think, for a moment, that I was in New York. It was the people, most of them 20-something, with their lace, their fur, the flowers in their hair, their sequinned skirts and tight-fitting shirts and tattoos, all busting to cram into the tiny bar at Mexico and wait at least half an hour for a table - and this was an ordinary Wednesday at 7pm.
But it's the crowd and the colour at Mexico that make the difference. The beautiful, unflappable waiters in their crazy headbands set the mood. The walls, crammed with Mexicana-style art, from postcards and calendars to the occasional original, keep it up. There's even a room named for Frida Kahlo out the back.
Mexico is divided into two. Bar in front, spilling out to Britomart Place, and restaurant behind. You can book only for tables of 10 or more. We found the best option was to eat in the bar. Certainly we were jammed against a wall, but there was plenty of room to push our chairs back and survey the ever-changing scene.
Finding the food menu was our biggest challenge. It was only when our smiling waiter with the impressive Alice-band pointed it out, that we realised. There it was, in a small corner of the large drinks menu with its 11 choices of cerveza (beer), 20 tequilas and five versions of margarita.
Possibly because there were only 16 food options and everything was so cheap, we went a little wild with the ordering. The first dish to arrive was the ceviche fish with jalapeno, lime and coriander. The fish had been thoroughly marinated, making it almost "cooked" by the lime juice. Delicious.
